


Midnight

by anxiousboat



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Fluff, Fusion, Hurt/Comfort, Loceit - Freeform, M/M, Questionable Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Questionable Creativity | Roman Sanders, Questionable Morality | Patton Sanders, This started off as a one-shot but it’s getting bigger by the second, help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousboat/pseuds/anxiousboat
Summary: After an incident with the light sides, a broken Janus locks himself away in his room. He hates himself for choosing to be with them, over Remus and his old life. He hated everything about it.Then Logan arrived.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	1. hold my hand (my dear)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if there’s any typos, so I can fix them :)

It was 27 minutes past midnight, and Janus was still wide awake. It was ironic: the side who cared the most about self-preservation couldn’t even sleep. He groaned, and turned onto his side for the fifth time that night.

The dim light from his lamp cast a slight glow on him, revealing silent tears flooding down his cheeks in violent waves. He stifled his chokes and gasps, not wanting to wake another side. Also ironic, considering that even so, his jaw still shook and the tears kept coming, sending shivers down his spine. He hated this. Hated the “Light” sides. Hated crying. Hated being alone in his room at midnight, sobbing uncontrollably.

That was when he heard it. A quiet sniffle coming from outside his door. Then, an almost silent knock on the door. Then another. Then one last knock, which was louder, and rung in the deceitful side’s ears. With a grunt, he pulled himself up, and dragged himself over to the door.

Just as he placed his hand on the doorknob, he felt a thought in the back of his head. _It’s probably just Roman or Virgil or Patton, here to gloat._ He gulped, looking towards the (dis)comfort of his bed. 

“J-Janus?”

That wasn’t Patton. It wasn’t Roman. And it certainly wasn’t the emo. So it had to be the nerd. What was he doing here at this time of night? Wasn’t he the one who lectured everyone about sleep being important, and necessary for Thomas to function properly?

With a click, the door opened. Janus took in a sharp breath.

Logan was standing at his door, eyes red and puffy, cheeks also stained with tears, fingers trembling slightly, mouth set in a deep frown. His tie was loose and looked as if it would fall off any minute, his top button was undone, his shirt was wrinkled and covered in wet patches (from crying, by the looks of it). He looked... desperate. Janus knew he looked desperate too. He hadn’t bothered to hide the tears before opening the entrance to his room, and he was starting to realise how dishevelled he looked, with his gloves lying on the floor behind him and his sweaty clothes sticking to him. Logan had clearly taken this in, and took a hesitant step into his academic rival’s room.

With an almost silent click, the door shut behind him.

Before they knew it, they were both sobbing, clutching each other, every cry full of pain and suffering and longing. They crumpled to the floor, still holding one another, barely visible in the dark anymore. One mass of heartbreak and sadness and misery and rage. The logical side’s grip was firm but delicate, like he was scared Janus would shatter into a million pieces if he was hugged too hard. Janus, on the other hand, clung to Logan like he didn’t plan on letting go for a minute.

“I–I’m so sorry, I–” Logan panted between chokes, before Janus simply pressed a finger to his lips. Their eyes connected, and both sides’ weeping suddenly came to a standstill. They simply... examined. Logan’s hand found its way to the deceitful side’s scales, and the edges of his mouth flickered upwards for a second. It wasn’t a smile, but it was pretty damn close. A slight laugh escaped from Janus’ lips, and Logan looked away for a second before making eye contact again. He leaned in.

They didn’t kiss. They hugged.

It was different this time, though. There was less desperation in the position, more understanding than anything else. No words needed to be spoken to understand what the other was feeling. It was just the two of them, in one of their rooms, embracing the other. Logan buried his head into Janus’ neck, and the latter’s grip tightened, and the tears started rolling again, and both of them wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time...

Then it happened.

A warm tingle spread across their bodies, though they payed no attention to it. They had their eyes squeezed shut, too tightly shut to notice that they were being encapsulated by rays of blue and yellow light (putting the lamp to shame). The light got brighter and brighter, colours mingling, until it consumed them. And then they were gone. But they weren’t.

Because in their place, a single figure kneeled, hugging himself, tears still pouring down his face. 


	2. the phantom

Virgil awoke to what sounded like a muffled shout, and although he couldn’t make out much of what was said in his sleepy state, he knew it involved the word “fuck”. Groaning, he lifted his head off the pillow, reaching to turn on his bedside lamp. It took him a minute, but eventually he flicked it, and grunted as light shone in his eyes. It must’ve been midnight, for God’s sake. He didn’t sign up for this shit.

The voice was whispering now, repeated, frantic whispers, fearful and excited and confused. But what made Virgil shiver was that the voice was not Patton’s, or Roman’s, or Logan’s, or Janus’, or even Remus’. This was completely new. Soft yet sharp. Loud yet silent. The anxious side hated it.

He remained quiet, and heard light, fast-paced footsteps. Which room were they coming from? Virgil didn’t know, but he had a bad feeling about this. Half of him said to flee, to hide, to cower. The other said to explore, to spy, to attack. He was torn between the two options.

Eventually, he decided on the latter, and painstakingly crept out of bed, leaving the lamp on. Grabbing a conveniently placed torch from his desk, he tiptoed towards his door, and opened it a crack. He couldn’t see any signs of movement in the dark, and on the second hand, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea– 

There was a loud whine (a door opening, Virgil realised) and out crept a figure, at last. It was surprisingly tall and slim, but Virgil could tell from even a quick glance that this was no normal side. There was something wrong, that he couldn’t quite pin down. He continued watching through the small crack in his door. The side (?) looked around for a second, before retreating back into the pitch black.

Where had it come from?

It couldn’t be Patton or Roman’s room, because they were on either side of Virgil’s. It also couldn’t be Logan’s, because he was on the other side of the corridor. So it could only come from... Janus’. That couldn’t be good.

Taking a quick glance around, he stepped out into the corridor, creeping past Roman’s room. The red door always seemed to shine slightly, even in the dark. Virgil wasn’t sure whether he loved it or hated it. With a gulp, he carried on down the corridor, the distance between his and Janus’ room suddenly seeming like miles. His stomach churned as he thought of the monsters that could be sneaking up on him right now, ready to grasp his ankles and pull him into the shadows–

“Kiddo?”

Virgil constrained a yelp, turning around to see... Patton?

The moral side had bags under his eyes, and he was fiddling with his fingers. “Kiddo, it’s the middle of the night.”

“I–I know.”

“Go back to sleep.” Patton heaved out a tired sigh. Virgil’s heart ached with sympathy. The side in front of him always tried so hard, and no one ever payed attention to his efforts. “Why are you even up anyway?”

“I– uh, I thought I heard something...”

“It’s probably fine. Now, you rush back into bed.”

Virgil nodded, and Patton dragged himself back over to his room. The anxious side’s heart twisted. Him and Patton hadn’t been such good friends recently, and he didn’t like it one bit. He missed having someone clinging onto his arm when Thomas watched horror movies, or tucking him into bed at night, no matter how much Virgil protested.

His thoughts were interrupted by the clock chiming one o’clock, and he sighed. These thoughts would have to wait until tomorrow night, it seemed. For the last time, he turned around, just to check. A glint of yellow flashed in the dark. 

Virgil didn’t sleep a wink that night.


	3. oh you’re so traumatised, it makes me wanna cry

“Virgil, you’re just being ridiculous. I’m sure Janus and Logan are fine.”

“But I saw it—”

“Virgil, you represent Anxiety. You’re probably just stressing out about nothing.”

There was a certain distress in his Virgil’s voice, one that deeply concerned the others. But they wouldn’t show it. Surely he was just freaking out for no reason. Right?

Patton suddenly found himself feeling quite sick, knowing that their argument with Janus might have something to do with this. What if the deceitful side had ran away, or gone back to the dark side? He looked over at Thomas, seeing the pure distress in his eyes. Patton knew how he felt: he was torn between two options, believing Roman or believing Virgil. The moral side didn’t really fit into this discussion as neatly as he’d hoped. He looked to his left, seeing the sweat running down Roman’s already distressed face. This argument was getting heated, and ḩ̴͠e̵̤̓ ̴̮̑d̷̘͒i̵̹͗d̵͚̿ǹ̸͍’̵̳͠t̷̺̅ ̸̭̈́ḵ̴̕n̷̠̐ǫ̸̕w̵̻̌ how to stop it. It wasn’t good enough: he was Morality, the father figure, the one in control. Right? He should know how to stop this.

“I see I was missed.” The smooth yet ragged voice cut through Patton’s train of thoughts like a knife. Before he even looked in the right direction, he flinched at the venom behind every slightly drawn-out word spoken.

He flicked his head in the direction of the voice, and inhaled deeply. A pair of eyes gazed back at him, which seemed normal, until the moral side realised that two white eyes were dotted down the side’s – what else could it be? – right cheek, silver scales spotted around them. Janus? No. That was impossible.

The side was not smiling, but not frowning either. There was a certain level of... loneliness in the way it stood, and Patton almost felt sorry for it. It? No, if it was a side, it must’ve used he/him pronouns...? For the fiftieth time that day, he looked around, only seeing confusion and fear in the faces of the others. Roman’s mouth was open slightly; Virgil looked positively horrified. Patton didn’t want to see the expression on Thomas’ face.

After a minute of silence, he took a shaky breath, and barely choked out the word “hi”. The side’s four eyes seemed to glimmer with something... annoyance, respect, fury, sadness, curiosity... recognition? Being under this side’s glare made his stomach churn more than it did before. He also noted that this side was much taller than any other, almost twice the height of Virgil (who was, admittedly, very short, but still).

Then Patton realised.

What had the side meant when he’d said “I see I was missed”? Unless he was being ominous. But what about the scales? The scales that looked suspiciously similar to those of the deceitful side? If he looked up, he could see a pair of thin-rimmed glasses perched on top of the side’s head. The moral side knew those looked familiar...

“Logan and Janus?” he almost yelled, startling everybody else.

The edges of the side’s mouth twitched, into what was not quite a smile. Patton had a feeling that was the closest he’d ever get with the figure in front of him.

“You got me.”

A gasp echoed across the room, as the side continued to stand utterly still, eyes scanning it. He gave a little chuckle, the venom coming back once again. The discomfort in the room was suffocating them all, and Logan and Janus god damn knew it. Patton couldn’t help but feel some admiration for the two of them: they had managed to switch up the mood and gain fear in a couple of minutes. Or maybe the feeling had started earlier than that. Either way, it wasn’t good for anybody else.

With a simple look around the room, the side seemed to exhale. “I shall take my leave.”

And suddenly, he (or they?) was gone, leaving the very scared light sides with a deeply confused Thomas.


	4. Chapter 4

Favian was many things: the wisest side, a heartbreaker, a leader, a bomb about to ignite. He’d watched tears cascade, swords drop to the ground, the realisation in many pairs of eyes.

Yet in this moment, he was as weak as he was when he first came into existence. The fire in front of him roared like a fierce beast devouring its victim, its warmth soaking his skin. Nestling into the leather chair beneath him, he sighed, letting his mind rest for a moment. Most of his memories were crystal clear, but he could remember that night and the days that followed better than anything else. The shock in the sides’ and Thomas’ eyes still made his skin burn in shame to this day. That had been the worst moment of all of this. He was quiet, vulnerable. Innocent, despite what he thought at the time. Stupid.

Two years he had been like this, content, battling through life with himself for company. Sometimes his stomach would twist when he thought about the fans, the fans of Janus and Logan. Theories circulated, people posted videos, tumblr posts, drawings of their OCs begging Thomas to include those two in just one episode. Of course, Thomas had cut Favian’s first appearance. The clever side reckoned this was Patton’s doing.

Every once in a while, he would run his hands through his hair, furrowing his brows, and wonder whether unfusing, just for a second, would be bearable. Sometimes he couldn’t help but long to see into his lover’s eyes, to have another being to cuddle up to on the worst nights; then he remembered the reason he existed in the first place. To comfort. He would rest, relaxed, in his room, and wouldn’t think about it for a while. 

He smiled, gazing into the bright embers of the flames that sizzled before him. After the... incident, he put it, where the others found out about him, he holed himself up in the Mindscape, trying to adjust to himself. A while went by, and he found himself laying on the emerald-green grass, listening to the bubbling of the stream a few metres away from him.

The more time he spent as himself, the more Logan and Janus got lost to the endless space that was, well, him. Sometimes he would sneak in the occasional fact, or make a sarcastic comment, but their personalities and love for each other eventually moulded together to create a calm, confident, and quiet rebel of a side. Somewhere inside of him, he knew that Logan would have loved this: to finally be heard, to go against the light sides’ carefully crafted system. No longer was he walking on eggshells around everyone. He was free to do what he wanted.

Telling Remus about their fusion had been the hardest thing to do. When he first strode into the Dark side of the Mindscape, he saw Remus’ eyes were red and puffy and his voice was shaky. The creative side greeted him with considerably less enthusiasm with normal, before Favian looked him in the eyes and told him.

He could never forget the wounded look on the Duke’s face. Betrayal. Anger. Sadness. Jealousy. “I guess I’m not good enough for you.” He strode off.

Every day after this happened, Favian would knock on Remus’ door with a gift. Usually, it was something small, and when Remus told him to go away, he would leave it outside the side’s green door. Of course, Remus had to let him in eventually. (When this happened, Favian hugged him for a solid 15 minutes before letting go.) From then on, the Duke and him were as thick as thieves. It _did_ take a bit of getting used to for the creative side, but he knew that the fusion would always treat him well.

Roman was a tougher shell to crack. The combination of self-loathing and hatred that he felt looking at the two sides when they were _apart_ was enough for him, let alone when they were one insufferable entity. Yet he was softer than Virgil and Patton. All Favian and to do was work on it, and work on it he did. The week after him and Remus made up, he posted an apology letter under the prince's door. He knew he had done wrong, and this wasn’t the only thing he planned on doing... but it was a start. Occasionally, he would send little red cards with Disney lyrics written on them; sometimes, they had tags on them which served as reminders to eat, drink, take a day off, etc.

The prince was starting to warm to the fusion. But what really made him change his mind was when he challenged Favian to a duel.

Roman watched as he fought with incredible accuracy, every slash hitting where it was supposed to go, every hasty decision made calmly. In fact, the side’s demeanour was so cool, he caught the prince wondering if he knew he was fighting. _Where had he even learned to fight? Was it a perk that came with fusing? Did he train himself?_

The look of surprise on Roman’s face when he heard his blade hit the ground was incredible.

He looked up to see the fusion smiling at him. Not a mocking smile, a smile of acknowledgement. A warm, friendly smile. No matter how bitter he the prince felt about losing, Favian knew he couldn’t resist that smile. Two arms wrapped his arms around the tall side, almost bursting into tears.

There was hope. 

The fire started to flicker, the roar dying down ever so slightly. The side examined it from all his different perspectives, taking in the sight of the animal fading away slowly. His fingers rested on his arms, his legs folded. He was considering falling asleep in that very spot, but something inside him urged him not to. That was the problem with being a fusion: he had random thoughts sometimes, that didn’t belong to him in particular. This one, however, was welcome. As the fire finally went out, he heaved himself upwards, and stumbled over to his bed, almost passing out there and then. His head looked to the side slightly, and there was a flash of light, and suddenly...

He was gone again.


End file.
